Emma made no answer. She did not think it necessary to inform Miss Carr that the honor of Lord Osborne's company was not a thing that she coveted.
When their luncheon was over, Miss Osborne renewed her offer of guiding Emma through the picture gallery—observing that they had better not lose time, as there was no light to spare in a winter's afternoon.
"But you must come too," continued she, addressing Mr. Howard. "I am sure you know more about the pictures than I do—and are much better worth listening to on that subject, at least."
"Your humility, Miss Osborne, is most commendable," said he, with a playful bow.
"Oh, yes, I am the humblest creature in the world—there are some things in which I believe you and a few others are wiser than myself—Greek and mathematics for instance."
"Your learning in those two branches did not use to be remarkable."
"Oh, I dare say I know as much as half those who have passed through Eton—they learnt to forget—I forgot to learn—there is not much difference."
"Not as you state it, certainly; apparently, you hold the learning of your acquaintance rather cheaply."
"Well, perhaps I do—but, really, one seldom meets with very wise men in these days: one hears such prodigies have existed in former times—but, I dare say they were not at all like the generality of our gentlemen companions, and would be sadly at a loss to comprehend our amusements, could they re-appear on the scene."
"You know scholars are proverbially awkward, bashful and absent—and, unless you would tolerate all those capital crimes, you need not wish for them in your company."